


April Showers

by theinsaneeraser



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Porn Without Plot, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-10
Updated: 2011-05-10
Packaged: 2017-10-19 05:47:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/197602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theinsaneeraser/pseuds/theinsaneeraser
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean doesn't dream of Hell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	April Showers

**Author's Note:**

> The second fic I wrote. I kind of thought this was a little beautiful. Just a different way of writing that I'd never tried before.

Dean doesn’t dream of hell.

He doesn’t dream of pain and suffering. He doesn’t dream of hunting or long walks on the beach. No, Dean dreams about the perfect April afternoon, out in the middle of nowhere, the cloud a dark stormy-grey, with rain, still chilled from winter air. He dreams of cold fingers on the back of his neck, grip unnaturally secure on wet skin. He dreams of his own fingers tangled in a mop of blonde hair and blue eyes boring into green.

Dean dreams of clothes, soaked from the shower, and then no clothes at all. Rain-click bodies pressed together in the muddy ground as puddle form around them. He dreams of the perfect grind of hips-on-hips, of erections sliding together in rhythm. He dreams of the feels of those same fingers inside of him, stretching and preparing him. He dreams of the perfect meld of pain and pleasure as Lucifer thrusts into him.

He dreams of chests rising and falling together as water pools between them like sweat. He dreams of lips on his neck, sucking hickeys and love-marks into the pale skin there. He dreams of moans and groans and cries as Lucifer thrusts into him just right, hitting that bundle of nerves inside him like he was made to do this. Like Dean’s body was made to give into him, to _be_ his.

Dean dreams of the Devil falling apart on top of him, cumming inside of him and completing him. He dreams of soft touches and loving looks.

And when Dean wakes up, sheets damp under him, and marks on his neck. Dean knows they aren’t just dreams.


End file.
